Yonderly
by O'MalleytheAlleyCat
Summary: Supernatural Challenge Forum: Halloween Trick-or-Treating. House 9 prompt 9. Set season 2. Sam and Dean discuss their father's death. Angst, hurt/comfort, fluffy. One-Shot


For the forum Supernatural Fanfiction Challenges: Trick-or-Treating Challenge.

My prompt(s) were 'Yonderly' and 'Doubly digilant'. This is the result. House nine prompt nine by the by.

Summary: Set Season 2. It's close to Halloween and the brother's discuss their dad's death.

Set Season 2

Yonderly: Is an archaic word derived from the word yonder; meaning far away. It can be used to mean aloof, can also mean absent-minded and anxious. All forms of use coordinate with the original meaning of far away. The word is not acknowledged in the Oxford dictionary.

* * *

Sam glance over at Dean from where he was sitting in the impala. They'd been so distant lately, nothing had truly been resolved aside from unearthing how Dean was feeling about their father's death. Nothing had changed, his brother was still adamantly refusing to talk about his claim that he wasn't worth dying for. Sam missed his father fiercely but if he had to choose he would always pick Dean, no contest. He was grateful for his father's sacrifice. He just needed Dean to think he was worth it.

"So Sam, tell me about where we're headed."

Sam looked up at his brother, the voice snapping him out of his pensive thoughts.

"Umm..." Sam sifted through the papers on his lap, eyes wandering in search for the name of the town in Wisconsin.

"Brookfield, Wisconsin. There have been a string of missing persons cases in town, eight people in the last year."

He looked over expectantly at Dean but his brother merely nodded, casting an eye outside to read a road sign. A few moments of silence passed and Sam let out a weary sigh. He saw Dean's hand tighten on the wheel but even then his brother didn't respond.

Ten hours later and they crossed the Illinois border into Wisconsin. Sam eyed the clock, it was five minutes before eleven at night. He looked meaningfully at his brother, but once again he was ignored.

"Are we going to stop for the night anytime soon?"

Dean grunted. Sam nearly rolled his eyes.

"I don't speak caveman Dean."

"You can sleep in the back, princess. You should sleep fine since we don't have any peas to disturb your delicate sleep."

"You're being a jerk."

Dean grunted again.

"I'm going to sleep on a bed tonight, and so are you."

Sam swore to God, if Dean dared to grunt again he was going to do a lot worse than just glue a beer bottle to his brother's hand. Dean however didn't reply, he merely gripped the wheel with white fingers and pulled off jerkily when an exit came that advertised a travelers motel. He pulled into the parking lot and turned the car off. Sam got out and began unloading however Dean stayed in the front seat not moving an inch. Sam sighed again in annoyance. He set the bags down with a huff and went to open the driver's door. It was locked. His brother was a goddamn baby.

"Dean!" he yelled. His brother stared resolutely forward, eyes never straying from whatever he'd decided to stare at in front of him.

Picking up the bags, Sam stormed into the motel muttering under his breath about 'idiot big brothers' and 'who was being a whiny bitch now?'. Slamming down the credit card on the counter he glared at the girl behind the counter.

"Two twins." He gritted out.

She nodded, too tired to care about the angry stranger.

"Room 109 Mr. Lanier Greig."

Sam gave a terse smile and stomped over to the room. Setting everything down on what would've been Dean's bed he went into the shower still feeling frustrated. Fifteen minutes later he got out feeling better. However Dean hadn't come in despite Sam having texted him the room number and having left the door unlocked. Sam dressed quickly before staring out the window where he could see the back end of the impala. He set his hands on his hips and let out a big sigh.

Dean was being an ass about this, Sam just wanted to help. He was genuinely worried about Dean, hearing his brother wish he was dead was terrifying. He couldn't lose Dean and Sam was afraid that was exactly what would happen if things weren't figured out with Dean. Dean had saved him too many times for Sam to not owe his brother making sure he knew that being alive was more important than anything else, more important than their dad being alive.

Sam glanced back through the window at the impala before making his mind up. He tugged on a jacket and headed out to the car. Sam couldn't fix his brother's self-esteem issues, God knew he had enough of his own, but he could make sure his brother slept in a warm bed.

He made it as far as a step out his door when two screaming figures a couple feet away caught Sam's attention. A woman with frazzled hair was half dressed and screaming at a shirtless man without shoes and only a pair of old jeans on. Sam glanced at them again before heading over to the impala. He was doubly vigilant as he kept an eye between the motel couple whose argument was escalating and the impala. Looking in through the driver's window he saw that his brother had sprawled himself out in the back seat, his leather jacket acting as a pillow.

Sam smiled sadly, his brother was actually sleeping. A particularly loud scream made Sam turn his head to where the woman was shaking some paper in the man's face. Sam looked back at his brother who was snoozing despite the noise. Dean really must have been exhausted. Sam bit his lip, shifting his feet as he wondered on whether or not he should wake his brother and make him move into the room.

A blast of cold air made Sam hunch into his jacket and he made his mind up. He rapped at the window, Dean had locked the doors earlier and he still had the keys. Dean stirred, flipping over and glaring grumpily at Sam.

"Dean, come out!" Sam said loudly through the window.

"It's a lot warmer in the room then out here."

Dean flipped Sam the bird and buried his head back into his leather jacket. Sam got one of his bitch faces and rapped on the window harder.

"I'm not going till you come out of the car and stop acting like an ass."

Dean ignored him, not budging. Sam ran a hand through his hair and held back a cuss word. He didn't have the keys so there wasn't anything he could really do but sit here and bug Dean until he came out. An even louder scream had him turning his head and he saw something in the woman's hands which made his eyes go wide.

* * *

Dean knew he was being unreasonable, but to be fair Sam had insisted on stopping instead of just letting it alone. It's not like Sam couldn't sleep in the car. But when Sam had started arguing Dean had just given it up, he was too tired to argue and worry and fight. He was exhausted. He shouldn't be alive, his dad shouldn't have died and left him with the order to kill Sam or save him. He hated it so much, he hated his dad for telling him that and he hated being the one to have to deal with it all.

So with Sam now tapping at the window being an infernal pain in the ass, Dean couldn't find it in himself to care. He wanted to be left alone, he didn't care that it was cold or extremely uncomfortable. It was his decision, one he got to make without anybody else's influence. Sam could just stuff it somewhere else. He heard Sam's stupid ultimatum but couldn't care. He had the key and Sam couldn't force him into talking this time.

That all changed when he heard the sound of what he knew to be a gun shot followed by the ominous sound of a body hitting the ground. Springing from where he'd been laying down he looked out the window. His gut clenched when he didn't see Sam's huge form standing by the window. The screams he'd been hearing from the domestic dispute turned a different key, one of panic rather than anger.

Dean threw the door open to see Sam on the ground red staining his shirt. Dean's face paled and he was on the ground next to Sam, hand pressed against his brother's shoulder. Sam looked shocked and was looking in confusion at Dean. Dean looked around quickly for the source of danger. The couple was scrambling away from the scene, a revolver in the woman's hands. Dean clenched his teeth in anger, he wanted to go after them but looking down at his brother he knew what would come first.

"I'm fine Dean."

Dean nearly laughed. Of course Sam would say that. Checking the wound better Dean realized it was a flesh wound, a through and through. Nothing to be too worried about. But still, it was a far cry from fine.

"Of course you'd say that dumbass. Have a hole in your shoulder and you say you're fine."

Sam opened his mouth to argue but Dean pressed down harder causing Sam's face to pale and for him to grunt in pain. Dean winced, he didn't mean to hurt his brother but in this instance making him shut up went hand in hand with making sure he didn't bleed as much. Dean pulled his hands back again, he leaned over to check the wound again. He peered around again grateful that the shady motel made sure that people stayed on the inside until cops came around. Until then he had to get his brother into the room and cleaned up.

"Come on Sam, we've got to get to the room."

He helped his brother up, an arm slinging around Sam's waist.

"Dean, I can walk just fine. It's a flesh wound, just like when Bella shot me."

Dean felt anger rise in him. If Sam hadn't insisted they stop, this whole thing wouldn't have happened. He stepped roughly away from Sam, nearly causing his little brother to topple. He wordlessly headed toward the motel room, leaving Sam behind to totter after him. Once inside he got the med kit, anger still burning in him. Sam just sat on the bed watching his every move and wincing as he unbuttoned his shirt.

Dean grabbed the bottle of whiskey and dumped a fair amount over the wound making Sam let out a pained gasp.

"Damnit Dean, can you warn a guy first?"

Guilt welled up at his brother's hissed words and the anger simmered down. He should have given Sam some sort of pain killers first. Fishing in the kit he pulled some out and handed them to his brother followed with the bottle of whiskey. Sam gratefully took them with his left hand and chased the pills down with a swig of the alcohol. Dean set about stitching Sam up. Soon enough they finished and Sam let out a soft chuckle.

"Didn't know I had to get shot to get you out of the car."

Dean glared at his brother, wiping blood from his hands.

"Well this wouldn't have happened if you hadn't been a whiny bitch about sleeping in the car."

The amusement fell from Sam's face and it was his turn to glare.

"Dean."

Dean tensed at Sam's tone. This was exactly what he'd been trying to avoid by driving until they both dropped.

"You can't just keep doing this, going and going. You need to talk about this!"

Dean spun around, eyes blaring with fury.

"I'm not doing this shit with you Sam! I spilled my goddamn guts to you before and it did nothing! I'm not a girl like you. I'm not whiny and pathetic, I don't have to talk about this!"

Sam stood up now, face flushing with anger despite having been so pale earlier. He swayed a moment but determination and anger kept him straight.

"Well not talking about it is sure as hell isn't working either! You're so distant now, I keep reaching out but you're too far away. It's like nothing has mattered since dad's death!"

"Yeah, well, maybe nothing has!"

The shouted response made Sam's face scrunch up painfully. Dean wanted to take the words back but he was still too angry. The pain in Sam's eyes was covered with anger.

"Dad's dead Dean. He's not coming back. Nothing you do is going to make that happen. He didn't sacrifice his life for you to waste it!"

Sam should've seen it coming, in fact he did in a way. But as it was he'd just been shot and hadn't gotten any sleep in the past two days so when Dean's right hook hit him without hardly any pull Sam took it and went down. He landed hard and let out a cry of pain as he felt his stitches stretch and then break.

Dean watched Sam fall feeling a sickening satisfaction that lasted until he heard Sam's cry of pain. Guilt flooded in and was doubled when Sam didn't come up from the floor.

"Sammy?"

The anger left to be replaced by worry and guilt. He had punched his brother maybe half an hour after his brother had been shot. Immediately he was on his knees next to Sam. Blood was seeping through the newly bandaged shoulder and Sam was taking deep breaths, his eyes clenched shut against the pain.

"Sammy, I'm so sorry." Dean guided Sam up and onto his bed, feeling his self-loathing increase when he realized that the stitches had broken. This time around Sam was less macho about the pain and leaned against his brother as Dean restitched the wound. The room was quiet as Dean gently worked on his brother. He was almost finished when Sam spoke.

"I can't lose you Dean." the words were soft and filled with fear.

"I could lose dad, but not you."

Dean finished the last stitch and cut it off. He pulled away from Sam looking his brother in the face. Sam's eyes were filled with tears and he was looking desperately at Dean.

"I can't miss him like you do Dean. I can't. Because you're here and he isn't and if he was here you wouldn't be."

Dean's throat tightened and he felt himself blinking back what he would never admit were tears. Sam leaned back against Dean and looped both his arms around him, despite the fact that it must have hurt like a bitch for his right shoulder.

"You're worth a million dads, Dean. I don't care what you think, but you are and I can't lose you so you need to stop getting lost."

Dean nodded against where his brother had grabbed onto him, feeling wetness staining his shoulder.

"I can try that." He let out, voice breaking from emotion. Sam nodded back, burying his face in his brother's shoulder for a few moments longer.

He patted Sam and said quieter "I can try that."

A few moment passed when a knock came at the door. Dean frowned before realizing that it was probably the police checking about the gun shot. Standing up he glanced at Sam before he headed over to the door. It took maybe a few minutes with Dean lying through his teeth and smiling at the right moments. The officers were sated and Dean was able to shut the door. When he turned back around Sam had composed himself, the only evidence of the last twenty minutes the purpling bruise on Sam's face and his puffy eyes.

He had gotten into bed but was looking at Dean with his puppy dog eyes.

"Dean."

Dean held up a hand. "Don't worry about it Sam. I promise that I'll keep trying." He cast one last guilty glance at his brother.

"Besides I'm too tired. It'll be nice to sleep in a bed."

Sam took the words for what they were meant to be, an apology and an acceptance of what had been said earlier. Nothing more was said and Dean checked on Sam again, mother henning in his own way and eventually settling down in the opposite bed. Ten minutes after the light had gone off Sam spoke.

"You know that you're worth it, right Dean?"

Dean felt something warm grow in him, something that could rival the gaping hole left by his dad.

"You're always worth it."

Dean blinked away the tears that had started to form again.

"Good, because you are so buying me all the candy I want for Halloween next week."

Sam laughed softly before giving a hmm of agreement.

"Good night Dean."

Dean smiled softly.

"Good night Sammy."

* * *

Ok, Sappy and angsty. I barely covered the prompts and I barely slipped in halloween. Oh well. I came I saw I...well I somethinged.


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